An Unexpected Caller
by Myraskye
Summary: Lestrade comes to ask Sherlock for his help with a triple homicide. When he finds Sherlock with in the middle of one of his moods while on a video call. I may expand later but finished for now. Strange formatting errors fixed


Sherlock was in one of his moods according to Mrs. Hudson. Lestrade didn't care if the bloody world was ending. He needed Sherlock's help. Just as he approached the landing he heard the shouting.

"IF YOU SAY YOU'RE FINE ONE MORE TIME…NO IT IS NOT OK….I AM THIS CLOSE TO CALLING MYCROFT AND YOU KNOW HOW MUCH A HATE THAT." Lestrade hesitated caught between wanting to know what was happening and not wanting eavesdrop further. His conscious got the better of him and he proceeded to knock. The voice on the other side of the door got quiet before the same voice called. "Come in."

The DI quickly opened the door, not wanting to piss Sherlock off further. Walking in to the constant disaster area that is Sherlock's flat he found the man himself sitting in his regular chair wearing nothing but a sheet frowning at a computer.

"Ah Detective Inspector, how boring. I am not available for cases at present." The curly haired man said without ever looking up.

"Sherlock, I'm fine and you're not busy you git. Now take the case the nice DI is asking for your help with." came an unknown voice from the computer.

"John I am busy. I'm arguing with you, and what did I say about the word fine?" Sherlock responded in a huff.

"Sherlock who are you talking to?" Lestrade asked confused at who on Earth could talk to Sherlock in such a way without being hung up on.

"Obvious." The detective stated glancing up at the intruder for the first time. "Honestly, can you not see what's in front of your nose? Triple homicide. The second victim was the killer. The third victim was more readily able to deal with the arsenic from there work with vintage ball gowns. As I said, Dull. Now leave." Lestrade felt he should no longer be shocked by the irritating genius. Before he could ask any kind of follow up question a voice came from the computer speakers:

"Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. How did you figure this one out?" Lestrade figured he must have been having the strangest dream. He could have sworn Sherlock smiled a small twitch of the mouth and a softening behind the eyes.

"It was simple. I saw it on the news earlier. The fiancé of the third victim found out that he had been cheating on her with a coworker. It didn't help that his new lover was male. She used her access to the CuHAsO3 pigment from her work restoring and authenticating 19th century ball gowns. A job through which she had met said fiancé. Of course she was aware of what concentration of CuHAsO3 was fatal and proceeded to dose all three of them with it. The fiancé recognizing the effects of arsenic poisoning tried to save himself after realizing it was too late for either lover. He was unsuccessful."

"They were killed by a ballgown?" The voice asked

"In short, yes. Not as uncommon as you might think. However, it usually took longer, and fewer victims realized they were even being poisoned." Sherlock smirked. "Lestrade, why are you still here? You've got your killer. Go away."

"Be nice"

Lestrade snapped out of whatever haze he had found himself in. He knew he should leave, but he was far to curious who could have received such a tender response from the high functioning sociopath in front of him.  
"Sherlock, who are you talking to?" He repeated.

"Lestrade I've just handed you a killer and even spelled it out for you exactly how it happened. Has none of that entered your ridiculously inferior mind?"

"Sherlock, behave." Came the voice far more commanding this time.

"But John he's being so incredibly dull! It's so obvious if he bothers to think for a single second."

"Turn the computer around. Let me meet the man helping me to keep you sane."

Sherlock sighed heavily, pouting as he turned the computer around to face the DI. Lestrade wasn't sure what he expected but this average looking man wasn't it. His sandy blonde hair was cropped to a militant length. His blue eyes were kind and some what amused. He wore a khaki tee shirt and some sort of chain necklace. There was a white bandage on his head. Somehow everything in the picture seemed dusty. It hit Lestrade like a ton of bricks. Sherlock was talking to a soldier who had recently been wounded.

"Hello, Lestrade. Nice to finally get a visual. Thanks for keeping this one busy. He's a right terror when he's bored.

Sherlock huffed loudly "John."

"Calm down Sher, I'm talking to Lestrade." The soldier smiled as he spoke.

"I hate to ask but who are you?" The DI asked looking between Sherlock and the computer.

"Sherlock you haven't told him? What if you were hurt chasing some bad guy who would they call?"

"Mycroft would know long before the yard and he would be sure to get you to me as fast as humanly possible. It didn't seem important." Lestrade could have sworn Sherlock looked sheepish. After a heavy sigh and a whispered "git" form the computer the soldier spoke.

"I'm Captain John Watson-Holmes. I married that utter arse four and a half years ago."


End file.
